


Back home

by epithalamium



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Spoilers for chapter49, Wank jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 00:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epithalamium/pseuds/epithalamium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘What have you done to yourself now,’ he said. No one else but Erwin heard him add, ‘You fucking fool.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back home

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Back home  
> Characters/Pairings: Erwin Smith/Rivaille,  
> Rating: PG-13 for language  
> Disclaimer: Shingeki no Kyojin and all related characters is to Isayama Hajime and associates.  
> Summary: The Scouting Legions come back home.  
> Word count: 1,200~  
> Notes/Warnings: I might be jumping the gun a bit here, seeing as how they haven't even made it back home in Chapter50 yet. I actually stopped reading Eruri fics after Chapter49--it's just too sad, you know? And I was still unsure whether Erwin would come back alive. But Erwin survived Chapter50 and I've seen so many lovely fic and art putting their own spin on this theme, so I wanted to try it out, as well.
> 
> Written for the prompt from Tumblr: Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

Word had been sent ahead, and Rivaille had known what to expect as the members of the Scouting Legion returned to the Walls with the fresh sting of bitter loss in addition to the ones already seared in their hearts. A ragged company from the Military Police accompanied them, although Rivaille couldn’t be arsed to give them more than a passing glance. He fought the urge to hold the lapels of his jacket close across his chest, a gesture that would have looked defensive even to the least observant, as he stepped out of the makeshift barracks to join the rest of the populace—civilians and soldiers alike—watch the Scouting Legion trudge back home.

It wasn’t much of a welcome. Resentment was obvious in more than one face; anger at the Legion’s continuing failure keeping fear and hopelessness at bay. Rivaille knew that most of them hated the Legion for what it represented of their future; the constant battle against the titans that seemed to bear no fruit at all, despite the help of one Eren Jaeger. 

But they had rescued Eren from the hands of the other titan shifters. That surely counted as a victory, no matter how momentary. And Erwin—

‘Corporal?’ a soldier dismounted from his tired-looking horse, addressing Rivaille amidst the crowd of onlookers, and they parted before Rivaille as if he bore some cursed plague. That cleared for him a way to where the other soldiers remained on horseback, waiting for further command.

Despite the warm weather, Rivaille felt a chill down his back, and he held his jacket closer to his body after all, the faint whiff of pine and aftershave offering a semblance of comfort. 

‘The men need treatment and food,’ said Rivaille, nodding at the MP officers standing nearest him. ‘I’ll leave that to your competent hands.’ There was only the faintest edge of sarcasm in his voice. As if sensing his ill humour, easy enough to deduce the reason as to why if they ever used the brains in their swollen heads, they obeyed his orders without attempts at witty repartee. 

‘Corporal,’ the soldier spoke again. Rivaille knew all of them by name, but couldn’t quite focus on the man’s face as he squinted in the direction the man was indicating with a hand that shook visibly. ‘The Commander requires your presence.’

‘I bet he does,’ Rivaille said, under his breath. He didn’t wait for the soldier to lead him to where Erwin was sitting, pale-faced and grim, astride his horse. He was easy enough to spot even in a crowd. Few men stood taller than the commander, and the dying light from the setting sun made his hair shine pale gold. 

Erwin dismounted, movement slow and less graceful than usual. Rivaille bit his tongue, frown deepening, although he didn’t stop walking until he stood less than an arm’s length away from Erwin. 

Rivaille knew that Erwin’s pallor was caused by fatigue as much as blood loss, the shadows surrounding his eyes that came as much from the pain of having more of his men die right before his eyes as well as the physical. Erwin didn’t need Rivaille’s anger and frustration and relief, had experienced enough of that himself the past couple of days, but Rivaille couldn’t help himself any more than he could stop the sun from setting.

‘What have you done to yourself now,’ he said. No one else but Erwin heard him add, ‘You fucking fool.’

Erwin gave him a tired smile. ‘We got Eren back. Not a bad turn out, all in all, don’t you think?’ His tone was less formal, the usual Sina upperclass drawl clipped and quickening into a commoner’s accent. Erwin never spoke so casually in public; that he did so now told Rivaille that Erwin had given this conversation some thought beforehand and had planned accordingly. The tense set of Rivaille’s shoulders eased a fraction.

‘Come on, you need to get your arm seen to,’ said Rivaille.

‘What arm?’ said Erwin, and Rivaille would have missed the self-recrimination in Erwin’s voice if he hadn’t been looking for it. 

‘Don’t.’ Rivaille bit at his tongue again. When he felt he could speak without wanting to throttle Erwin, he shook his head. ‘Let’s go.’

He didn’t offer to assist Erwin towards the physicians’ tent. He would have carried Erwin there bodily if he could, but the look on Erwin’s face stopped him, and there were still people standing about, trying to listen in on their conversation without being too obvious about it. 

He looked behind his shoulder to see Erwin following him with slow, careful steps. ‘Welcome back.’

Erwin didn’t smile this time, but he looked less tired. ‘I’m glad to be back.’

*

They changed Erwin’s bandages and fed him soup. Rivaille made sure that liberal chunks of meat came with the soup. Erwin started looking less pale and likely to collapse from a well-timed huff of wind, and Rivaille felt some of his anger cool as he watched Erwin’s strained features relax into sleep.

He must have dozed off himself, and he opened his eyes at the sound of Erwin’s voice. The hour was pretty late, and the smell of potatoes roasting for dinner was in the air. Outside, a group of men sang a harvest song, the words muffled by the canvass walls of the tent and Rivaille thought the notes sadly out of tune, but the men sounded cheerful enough. After all, if one discounted the number of fatalities from their most recent mission, one might almost chalk it up as a victory for mankind. 

‘What?’

‘I said Eren might be more useful than we first thought,’ said Erwin. His eyes were still closed, but the tense set to his shoulders was back, and he was frowning. 

‘You need to rest.’ Because they were alone, Rivaille let one hand rest on Erwin’s bandaged shoulder. He felt Erwin’s muscles twitch in response, but Erwin didn’t shake him off, leaning slightly towards Rivaille instead. ‘Go back to sleep. We’re riding for the castle early next morning.’

‘I need to tell you everything. Just in case.’

Rivaille sighed, standing up from his chair so he could sit on the palette next to Erwin. ‘Tell me later. When you’re feeling better.’

‘I feel better already.’ Erwin opened his eyes when Rivaille lied down next to him, reaching out across Erwin’s chest to get hold of Erwin’s left hand. For a moment, Rivaille thought Erwin would pull away, but he allowed himself to be touched, and after several heartbeats tangled his fingers with Rivaille’s. Erwin’s voice was softer when he spoke again, ‘I feel better.’

‘Hmm,’ said Rivaille. ‘You don’t have to lie. It’s just me, Erwin.’

That made Erwin laugh, and Rivaille took advantage of Erwin’s distraction to pull his hand close, holding it up against the light from the lamp that hung from the centre of the tent. 

‘Rivaille.’

‘Guess you’d have to get used to wanking off with your other hand,’ said Rivaille.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Erwin. ‘I’ve never wanked off in my life.’

Rivaille huffed. ‘That’s because you had me to do it for you.’ He leaned forward before Erwin could answer, pressing his lips on the back of Erwin’s hand. 

‘If my back starts itching,’ said Erwin, unable to keep a straight face, ‘you’d be the first to know.’ His cheeks turned a faint pink, as well, which Rivaille noticed with certain satisfaction. 

‘I’d better be.’ Rivaille rested his head on Erwin’s shoulder, breathing in a faint scent of pine and aftershave, and Erwin’s comforting warmth by his side.


End file.
